On My Way

My first love started in a wet market.

He was the brilliant student accompanying his mother on grocery runs. I was a girl who survived by collecting recyclables.

I spent fourteen years loving him.

From a snow-covered northern town to a vibrant city by the sea. From an assembly-line worker to someone who could afford the down payment on a home in a major metropolis.

The day I finally won his heart, he told me: "You've never really loved me. You've only loved the life I stand for."

A warm and affluent family. Self-discipline. Academic excellence. A future bright enough to dream about.

That's why he became my impossible moonlight, forever out of reach.

Then he looked at me, a trace of bitterness in his eyes.

"But what am I supposed to do?" he said softly. "I'm in love with you."